Chronicles of an Orange Knight
by NeonZangetsu
Summary: Fate is a strange, fickle thing. The tiniest of changes can create a ripple in the pond, and each ripple can change the world. But can a wandering blond hope to change his philandering ways when the fate of the world hangs in the balance? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, its going to be one wild ride, from start to finish. But will he survive it? NarutoxKaraxYulie. Humor. Enjoy!


**A/N: Hey, all! I'm back! First off, I wanted to say thank you to all those who have supported me and encouraged me to stick with what I'm doing, and more importantly, to remain on this site. I've decided to buck and, despite the the undue anger and aggression I've been receiving from both sources anonymous and otherwise...I'm going to stick around. Writing has been my passin for all of six years, and I wouldn't give it up for the world. If I stopped writing on this sight I'd just feel...hollow, ya know?**

**Now, I've been through the ringer as of late, but it seems things are finally starting to look up for me at long last. My living situation has been rectified, I'll be going back to school soon, and to top it all off, I recently found a new job! Today, was orientation. Now,I know what you're thinking. Will work cut down on the frantic updating I've been doing as of late? Not so! There are many hours in the day, and I'm definitely going to work hard to continue to update all my fics-Prometheus being one of them- So thanks, ya'll for the support. Love you guys! **

**As to this story, its just an idea I got, and I don't belive anyone has tried it yet, so...**

**...here we go! Fair Warning! Violence and gore in this chapter!**

_"Oh, Athane, the Forgotten One, keeper of the ancient chain, bearer of the bloody scythe, I call upon you now! Verto!"_

_~?_

**Orange**

_A long time ago, during what's known as the Dogma age, two great forces struggled for __control of the world. They were called Yshrenia and Athwan. Their fortunes waxed and waned, but neither could ever gain the upper hand. In a bid to finish the war once and for all, Yshrenia created the Knights._

_And just like that the tides changed; before __long Athwan stood on the brink of defeat. But the Athwani forces made one, last desperate counter-attack. At the price of many lives, they used "sealing magic" to entrap the Yshrenian Knights. Without their super weapons, the Yshrenians were overwhelmed b__y the Athwani Spellcasters. Now it was their turn to be pushed to the edge of defeat._

_However before the Athwani could finish off their foes, they turned against themselves and their empire collapsed into civil war. Eventually both civilizations, Yshreni__a and Athwan alike, faded away. For all their sacrifices, neither side ever gained ultimate victory, in the end their bloody struggle was all in vain. _

_However, the oracles of time prophesied a final battle would be fought ten millennia later..._

* * *

There is a certain beauty to be had in pain; it can blind you if you let it, but at the same time, it can grant you incredible focus. Pain brings weakness, but at the same time offers incredible strength.

Clarity.

When your very life is on the line, when all else fails and death is staring you in the face, you'd be surprised what you might do to survive. A calm man might fight like a demon. A wise one might abandon rationality all at once and choose an impossible course. He might even make a deal with the devil himself. Currently, our protagonist finds himself wondering if he should have made that deal.

"This! Is! Why! I! Hate! Horses!"

Tufts of grass and dirt were thrown away and to the winds as a lone horse tore through the plains of Balastor. Passing trees and high cliffs in a bolting run, its owner took them all in stock before spurring his mount still further, of urging just a tiny bit more speed out of his steed. Pain radiated up his arm with every jarring stride, rivulets of red coursing between his clenched fingers as he clutching at the wound with one arm, and their reins with the other.

He halted atop a cliff face that gave him a grand view of a large kingdom. Glittering with red rooftops and towering spires, it was the picture of brilliance and glory. Under other circumstances, he might have been just a bit more appreciative of the beauty beneath him. But now? Now he was focusing on not bleeding out. His orange and black leathers creaked softly as he intensified his grip on the wound.

The young man chuckled grimly at the thought. After all he'd said and done, it would be foul irony if he died here now, wouldn't it?

"So, this is Balandor, eh? Not what I expected." he risked a glance over his shoulders, fearing he'd find the band that had been hounding him for the last mile-thankfully, he found none. "Maybe now those psycho's will stop chasing me." He touched a hand to his right arm, wincing slightly as it came away bloody. He'd made the mistake of packing his weapons and armor behind the saddle - by the time he'd noticed that circus-looking freak and the black armoured, magic slinging demon, it had been too late. Hopefully he'd outpaced them.

God, he missed having regeneration. He was no magician either; there would be no magical fix for this. At the best he'd have to bind the wound and hope it healed over time. Being mortal wasn't all it was cracked up to be. But for better or worse he'd found his way here. Finally.

**"..."**

He touched a hand to the length of glistening amber chain wrapped around the length of his left arm, as though listening to it. At length, he nodded. It was strange to think that an armored entity was capable of such a thing as speech, but then again, he'd seen things far stranger in his day. The entity locked within that length of chain seldom spoke to him, but when she did, he always listened. Their partnership had come to be nearly an age ago, a strange companion existing beside him in place of the cruel creature he'd once housed.

"Yeah. I know."

Come to think of it, this wasn't even his universe was it? It hadn't been for ages. He'd been flung here aeons ago, during a terrible war. That was how he'd found this artifact in the first place. The chain wrapped around his arm was a gateway to a horrible power, one of the first of its kind, a terrible weapon made for war...and nothing more. Naturally he'd stolen it, tried to keep it from falling into foul hands. Then some mage, in a fit of rage, unwittingly blasted him forward in time.

She chimed at him softly.** "...?"**

"Hey! I'll be just fine." he sniffed at the implications in her tone. "Tis just a flesh wound!"

The silence was telling.

"That's not very nice, ya know. We've been together for two years now, have a little faith!"

Her reply was positively scathing.

"Oh, now that is just _rude!"_

As a side effect of such he'd been stripped of his much vaunted regeneration-or at the very least had impaired it to the point of its nonexistence. Whatever the case, it was enough to make this piercing wound incredibly deadly-and that was without the poison coursing through his system. What he wouldn't give for a healer now.

"...!"

"Hush. M'fine. Just fine...

All that traveling, wandering, it gave you more than just perspective. It changed you, whether you were ready for it or not. He'd hopped from town to town in days since, taking items of value, robbing those who lorded their wealth over others, giving most the poor-and went on his merry way. Someone might think that made him little more than a glorified robin hood, but he liked to think of himself as a people person. Eighteen years old, two spent in this world, and wouldn't change it at all.

"Its almost time."

Spurring his mount into action with both heels, he started toward the kingdom.

* * *

In the kingdom of Balandor the entire population was abuzz with activity. Tonight was the ball for Princess Cisna's coming-of-age. If that weren't enough a delegation from the continent of Faria, a long time enemy of Balandor, was coming to negotiate peace treaties and end a war that had ravaged both sides.

With such an important occasion upon them, it was only natural that the Castleguard would be on high alert and had increased the number of patrols and guards station at the two entrances to the kingdom to ward off those deemed suspicious and unworthy of entering and cause trouble for the kingdom and its guests.

As the four guards stationed at the entrance leading from the Greydall plains cast focused looks on all who passed them, what seemed to be a bloodsoaked young man in a orange and black leathers with a hood up and an exhausted horse ferrying him forward as he approached the gates. As he made to pass them, one of the guards called to him.

"You there!"

...ion."

"Eh? Did you say something?"

Uzumaki Naruto raised his cowl with an effort, exposing a pale, gaunt face. Everyone flinched.

"I said my good man," he began slowly and with perfection diction, blazing blue eyes all but boring into the man's visage, "That I am desperate need of medical attention. Please hurry, I do believe I'm about to pass-oh boy, going down~"

He never got to finish. Those eyes rolled back in his head and his body slumped, pitching forward off of the horse. One of the men managed to catch him, and in doing so, caught a glimpse of the deadly wound that had once been his left arm.

"Oh, crap. Somebody get a healer!

**A/N: There we go! My first forray into White Knight Chronicles! I've played the first game, and I'm already well on my way with the second. I think its an absolutely fascinating franchise, though I must admit, I'm surprised that no one's made a very good stab at this thus far. Hopefully this one's worthy of your attention! And yes, this is the regular Naruto we all know and love! Expect a fair deal of humor throughout!**

**So...in the Immortal Words of Altas...**

**...Review...Would You Kindly? And of course, enjoy the preview! I reveal to you, Naruto's knight!**

**(Preview!)**

_Naruto felt the beginnings of a smile tugging at his face. His opponent was good, but sloppy. Very sloppy. For all its larger size, the Black Knight was just too slow; its wielder couldn't seem to touch him. He knew quite well why he was being attacked; why he had been singled out. He could've dodged away all day. But his human form had limitations. A single hit from that blade would be enough to grind him into a gory paste into the ground. Time to chance tacticts. Even as he moved, the words started to flow._

_"Oh, Athane, the Forgotten One, keeper of the ancient chain..._

_The chant that came to Naruto's lips of his own accord was abruptly stopped when the knight reached him and brought its foot blade right on top of him. Naruto caught it deftly in his hand. Ignoring the immense strain that shot up his arm he continued speaking as the massive incorruptus bore down on him, striking again and rending a might dent in the earth beneath his feet. Then he vanished. As if suddenly sensing this threat, the Black Knight looked to its left where the former shinobi was now standing, his hand slowly uncoiling the chain clutched in his right hand._

_ ...bearer of the bloody scythe..._

_Flipping the chain so he held it in the reverse hold, Naruto flung into the air, revealing the glyph etched into his arm. With a fierce shout he cleaved the chain across it, causing the plate with the glyph to split in sudden twine down the middle whilst an enlarged version of the glyph appeared before him. The knight was quick to strike; she was just a hair too slow._

_I call upon you now! **Verto!"**_

_In a blinding flash of light, the his body disappeared from beneath the ebon warrior's feet and reappeared kneeling in the place Naruto stood moments ago. Slowly it rose, each inch of its amber frame glistening starkly in the evening light, before rising to a standing position, its once vacant eyes briefly flashing a pure crimson as it awakened from its long slumber. In its hand it bore a large chain, at the end of which hung a decidedly deadly looking scythe, stark and scarlet_

_"Now," the Reaper rumbled, "Its a fair fight."_

**R&amp;R! =D**


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